


then somebody bends (unexpectedly)

by amusewithaview



Series: Said the Hatter with a sigh, "It's always Tumblr time." [8]
Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eighties Romance Novel Tropes Used and Abused Indiscriminately, F/M, For Want of a Nail, Military Captain Gaston
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-14 16:25:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10540185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amusewithaview/pseuds/amusewithaview
Summary: Gaston has a rare moment of self-reflection -“But she’s so well-read and you’re so… athletically-inclined,” LeFou said, wincing.For a fraction of a second, Gaston took it as a compliment, his rightful due.  Then a breeze stirred past, carrying with it an odd, dry sort of smell that he didn’t recognize.  He tilted his head to one side as it abruptly occurred to him: “Do you suppose that’s why she’s so hesitant?”LeFou’s eyebrows shot up.  “I wouldn’t sayhesitant,” he hedged.  “But she does seem to value commonality?  And you don’t have much in common.”- and everything changes.





	1. Intervention

**Author's Note:**

> I'M NOT SORRY AND YOU CAN'T MAKE ME APOLOGIZE.
> 
> Short chapters as they occur to me, but only the vaguest of outlines exists. This is an AU where the Enchantress intervened in the royal family one generation earlier (prior asshole prince) around when Adam's mum died and therefore Adam is happy and healthy and living in his castle, where he employs numerous village residents. He is in no way Beastly, and will likely play little to no part in this story. His father, on the other hand...

“But she’s so well-read and you’re so… athletically-inclined,” LeFou said, wincing.

For a fraction of a second, Gaston took it as a compliment, his rightful due. Then a breeze stirred past, carrying with it an odd, dry sort of smell that he didn’t recognize. He tilted his head to one side as it abruptly occurred to him: “Do you suppose that’s why she she’s so hesitant?”

LeFou’s eyebrows shot up. “I wouldn’t say _hesitant,_ ” he hedged. “But she does seem to value commonality? And you don’t have much in common.”

“We’re both beautiful – “

“True, very true – “

“And we live in Villaneuve – “

“Right again – “

“What more does the girl want?” Gaston asked, scowling.

LeFou opened his mouth, then shut it and shrugged.

“ _Commonality,_ ” Gaston scoffed.

“Like minds,” LeFou offered.

“I can’t exactly take her _hunting._ ”

“No, but – ah. Nevermind.”

Gaston twisted in his saddle and raised a brow at his oldest friend.

“Well, you know what _she_ likes. Perhaps you could take an interest in – “

“Reading?”

“Reading.”

“ _Reading,_ ” Gaston said again. He grimaced. “I thought I left books and reading behind in the war.”

“But! At least you know _how_ to read! That puts you miles ahead of any of her other suitors,” LeFou reassured him. Then, having realized what he’d just encouraged, he subsided back into his seat, a small pucker to his brow.

Gaston was oblivious to his friend’s upset, too caught up in his own. “ _Other suitors?_ ” he echoed, eyes gone dark and dangerous.

“If she had any! Which she doesn’t! Everyone knows she’s to be your wife, Gaston!”

But it was too late. LeFou had given his friend a new trail to follow in his hunt for the ever-elusive Belle. He could only hurry after as Gaston dug his heels into the sides of the faithful Aurélie, galloping back to the village.

Unseen, Agathe emerged from the forest behind the hill the two men had settled upon to have their brief exchange, a small smile on her face. She did so like to meddle, and that man would quickly have become a beast the likes of which the province had not seen since the prior prince’s reign had she not stepped in. She would keep an eye on this situation, but – she could only point the way, it fell to man and maid to follow or stray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #agathe intervened one generation earlier so adam was never cursed and his dad was instead#might do more with the dad later#but adam is happy in his castle and still employing several villagers#no sad!beastie in the background i promise


	2. Assistance

Père Robert did not often receive visitors specifically seeking his library. It was rarer still that he would receive two such in a single day. It was nearly enough to have him questioning whether he was awake or asleep for his second visitor of the day to be _Gaston_ , of all people. The former Captain was visibly uncomfortable, though clearly trying to bluster through. His eyes were fixed on the window in front of him and his hands clenched on a small bundle of wildflowers. It was likely only training that kept him from shuffling his feet or allowing more than a fleeting grimace to seep through his confident façade.

“You wish to borrow a book?” Robert asked.

“Yes,” he affirmed gruffly.

“What would you like to read?”

The grimace returned, writ large across the handsome man’s features. “A book,” he said, eyes darting to the small collection stacked across the table. He eyed them as other men might eye poisonous reptiles. “I would like to read a book.”

“Yes, what kind?” Robert said patiently.

“There are _kinds?_ ” Gaston asked, eyes comically wide. “I… I’m not sure. What does Belle read?”

 _Ah, and there we have the crux of it,_ Robert thought to himself. He studied Gaston carefully, unsure what to make of this new development in the man’s persistent pursuit of the woman in question. “Belle has read every book in my collection,” he said slowly, noting the faint surprise on the other man’s face. “In fact, she’s read most more than once.”

“Why would she read them more than once?” Gaston asked, sounding genuinely confused rather than disparaging.

“That would be a question for the lady to answer.”

“Well, what’s her favorite, then? I’ll borrow that one.”

“I’m afraid she still has it, but…” Robert pulled out a thick tome and held it out to the other man. “This is one she favors, and you may enjoy it as well.”

The look on Gaston’s face said clear as words what he thought of the likelihood of _that_ , but he gamely held out a hand and took the book. “ _The Odyssey?_ What’s it about?”

“A man returning home after a war.”

“Hmph, I would have preferred to read about the war itself,” Gaston muttered, studying the cover.

“There are battles aplenty in that story, I promise you that.”

He nodded, still eyeing the book dubiously. “Thank you for the loan, Père Robert.”

“You are quite welcome, I ask only that you tell me what you thought of it once you’ve finished.”

With a brief nod, Gaston swept from the room, taking a good deal of energy and a healthy portion of Père Robert’s curiosity with him. Gaston, _reading?_ While obviously a ploy to gain Belle’s affections, it was also something _different_. He wondered what would come of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #if i wasn't confused by pere robert's clergy position i would ship him with belle tbh#BOOKWORM SHIP AH YIS#but he's clergy?#and so i am confusion#guess i'll just have to stick with gaston and beast#oh horrors


	3. Confusion

“Papa,” Belle said, walking into the workshop with a dazed look in her eyes.

“Dear?” He eyed her with some concern. “Are you ill? You look quite peaked.”

“Do I?” she asked. She sank into a chair beside him, staring unseeing at the music box he was working on. “Perhaps I am. That would make far more sense,” she finished, her voice trailing so low he almost missed it.

“Hmm? What would make more sense?”

“I just saw _Gaston_. Reading a book. To all appearances, quite _voluntarily_.”

Maurice set down his tools slowly, turning to face his daughter. They exchanged wide-eyed looks of confusion and concern. “Do you think it’s – “ he gestured towards her obliquely.

“I do not mean to be conceited, papa, but _why else?_ ”

“Well then.” He hummed, studying his child. Belle was frowning, a small wrinkle appearing between her brows and scrunching her nose. It was quite adorable, really, though he knew it to be a sign of her pique. “What do we think of a Gaston that reads?” he inquired.

“We find it suspicious,” Belle said slowly, “but we will leave it alone. For now.” Nodding firmly, she stood and swept from the room.

Maurice waited till she had gone before slumping back in his seat to frown at the ceiling. He knew of the man’s interest in his daughter, the whole village – possibly the entire province – knew of his intent. But for him to take up reading? A pastime seemingly anathema to the ever-active hunter? It would not do to borrow trouble, but it seemed that the situation would require a closer eye in the future.

“Gaston. _Reading_ ,” he muttered to himself as he returned to his tinkering. “Now I’ve heard everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #everyone is suspicious#if you are picturing gaston choosing specific areas to read where he knows belle might pass by you are 100% correct friend#gaston the conspicuous reader#belle finds this strange and a bit alarming#who'd have ever thought that she would see#gaston reading#no seriously


	4. Frustration

The next few times Belle saw Gaston reading, she made sure to offer him no more than a close-mouthed smile and a tilt of her head before continuing on her way. The fact that he had taken to lounging – truly, she had never seen any other man take up so much space merely by _existing_ – along all of her most-used paths through the village was frustrating, but she couldn’t stop him. It was his home as much as it was hers, perhaps moreso, since he had been born and raised in Villaneuve.

She wished he would give up this game of his and go back to his own life and pastimes. Belle had not the slightest idea what she had done to draw his attention in the first few months after she had moved to the village with her father, but if she could go back in time and undo it – she _would_. Gaston’s vocal interest had brought her nothing but trouble: the local girls considered her a poacher and the local boys acted as if she was already wed! It was not that she would welcome their interest if they expressed it, but to be considered _claimed_ by that _oaf_ with no say-so in the situation was galling beyond words.

It wasn’t as if his interest was genuine. Belle had seen him with the other village women, there were some he ignored (her peers, by and large) and some he flirted with (widows), and then there was his treatment of _her_. Gaston was not rude, nor did he skirt the bounds of propriety in her presence, but he was loud and persistent and – from Belle’s perspective – utterly insincere. He did not look at her as a man should look at a woman he wished to marry, no. When he cast his covetous gaze on her Belle felt like nothing so much as a trophy, something he wished to see hung on his wall.

Her teeth ground together as she caught sight of him leaning back against the wall of the bakery. Belle prepared herself to smile, nod, and hurry off, but then something unusual happened: Gaston did not look up as she drew near. Ever before she would find herself the recipient of a toothy grin or a smirk as he called a greeting and attempted to draw her into conversation. But for him to ignore her entirely? She found herself halting a few feet from him, trying to determine what was going on.

Gaston was frowning down at the book she had seen clutched in his hands this past week. After a moment's careful study she realized it was Père Robert's copy of _The Odyssey_. One of his hands was bracing the weight of the tome, palm cupping the spine; the other hand was tracing something repeatedly. Gaston was muttering something she couldn’t quite make out, though she recognized the sound of his ire well enough. His lip curled abruptly in a snarl and for a moment she thought he might hurl the book from him.

“Are you well, Monsieur Gaston?” she inquired quietly.

He jerked, looking up in obvious surprise, though he gained control of his expression quickly. “Belle!” he cried, a broad smile overtaking his face. “Lovely to see you this morning – “

“You looked quite upset, does the book not agree with you?”

The smile melted off of his face like snow before a forge. “ _Telemachus,_ ” he spat.

Belle blinked rapidly. “Telemachus?”

“He should have driven the suitors off, not left them there!” He scowled back down at the book, “Never leave an enemy at your back – he is a fool.”

“He’s a boy,” Belle corrected. “He wants to find his father.”

“Pah! Some father - a _decade_ to come home? What could possibly have kept him?”

Against her will, she felt the corners of her mouth twitching up. “A few things.”

Gaston huffed. “I am thus far unimpressed with the supposed military genius this Odysseus is supposed to be.”

“But you are – “ she stopped and swallowed, a large part of her couldn’t believe she was about to ask this question. “You are _enjoying_ the book?”

He looked as if he had tasted something sour. “It is tolerable,” he allowed. “Did you enjoy this book?”

She nodded, “Very much.”

“But it is not your favorite,” he said.

“No, my favorite is – “ she cleared her throat, thinking better of offering that information up to him on a silver platter. “I must be off,” she said brightly. “Enjoy the book and… please let me know if you change your mind about Odysseus’s military stratagems.”

Instead of the flowery promises and praises she was expecting, Gaston gave her a single nod. “I shall, Belle.”

He was looking at her strangely, though she could not put her finger on just what it was she found so odd. It was not a shift in focus, she doubted anything could make him more intent than a hunt, and she did not make the mistake of ignoring that she was the prey in this particular venture of his. The way in which he was looking at her _was_ different though, and she was not certain what had caused the change.

“Good day, Gaston,” she said, offering him her now-customary close-mouthed smile and faint nod.

“Good day, Belle,” he said, offering her a small bow.

She turned on her heel and continued on her way, ever-conscious of Gaston’s eyes fixed on her retreating figure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #here have some of my headcanons#belle and her father only moved to the village in the last few years#gaston was a captain in the war#gaston actually has a decent education/vocabulary (look he uses expectorating in the song this is CANON)


	5. Confusion, II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI: I edited this chapter and the previous chapters to include the tags I was using on tumblr. I will include my tags in the A/Ns from here on out.

Once Belle had gotten past the fact that Gaston was reading  _at all,_  she had fallen prey to her own pleasure that she had someone new to discuss literature with. Much to her chagrin, she found herself stopping and chatting with him for a few minutes nearly every day. Gaston’s opinions on  _The Odyssey_  by turns amused, frustrated, and perplexed her.

 “I do not like these gods,” he said the next time she spoke to him.  “They meddle and play games.”  It was an opinion he had stated and repeated the last few days, always with a scowl over some new trick played by Athena, Poseidon, or Zeus.

Belle had run into him outside the bakery again, and she was staunchly ignoring the way both Monsieur Jean and Monsieur Marius, the baker, were watching their exchange with poorly hidden interest.  She was well aware that her interactions with Gaston were prime village gossip, but they could at least  _attempt_  to be subtle about it!

“Do you not attend church every week, Gaston?” Belle asked quietly, mischief guiding her to step off the path and a little closer to the man in order to keep their exchange away from prying ears.  He leaned in closer to hear her, still maintaining a proper distance.

“That is different,” he insisted, volume dropping to match her own.

“Did not god meddle with the Jews?  What would you call the story of Job, if not a game?”

“You twist things,” Gaston said sourly.  “These gods are petty creatures, no sane man would put his faith in such unpredictable beings.”

“Can you predict when god will answer your prayers?”

He grinned and stepped away from the wall, snapping the book shut with one hand.  “Will you allow me to court you?” he asked.

Belle repressed the urge to step back as, even without trying, he loomed above her. “ _No,_  Monsieur Gaston.”

“Then my prayers have not yet been answered,” he told her, still smiling in spite of her refusal.

She found him boorish, that had not changed, but for some reason today his persistence  _almost_  made her want to smile.  Belle shook her head at him, “Just because you do not like the answer, it doesn’t mean you haven’t received one.”

He shrugged, “The good lord helps those who help themselves, does he not?  Perhaps I have not yet done enough to gain favor.”

“Favor with god or with me?” she quipped.

“I will know I have one as soon as I gain the other.”

Phrased like that, she could almost take it for a compliment, the first he’d given her that didn’t make mention of her physical appearance.  Belle wasn’t sure how to respond and made the decision that discretion was the better part of valor.  Their book discussion had taken a twisty turn she had not been prepared for.  “Adieu, Monsieur Gaston,” she said, dipping into a shallow curtsy. She turned to go, but was halted by his hand on her own.  She turned and –

He lifted her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles, soft lips and rough stubble brushing her skin simultaneously.  His eyes never left hers.  “Until tomorrow, Belle,” he said, and that new  _thing_  she had noticed before was in his eyes, in his voice, in the faint smile that lifted his lips when she couldn’t help but gape at him in response to that unexpected gesture.

Speechless, she nodded and, though she was loathe to admit it even to herself, walking away from him just then felt more like  _fleeing_  than the resumption of her original plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #gaston is learning how to get to belle#gaston is starting to see her as a woman he wants as well as a trophy#belle does not actually know how to deal with a man wanting her#gaston is totally going to figure that out and take gross advantage of that fact#because all's fair in love and war#and we know how gaston feels about cheating#gaston is one smooth mofo when he wants to be#belle is totally screwed#but not literally#...yet


	6. Speculation

The unusual courtship of Belle was fodder for gossip the likes of which Villaneuve had not seen in more than a generation. Since Gaston’s first expression of interest in the girl, the town had taken notice.  After all, Gaston was something of a local hero, the most eligible gentleman for miles, and, due in no small part to his long-standing _intimate_ friendship with LeFou and a decided _lack_ of interest in the local beauties, had been verging on ‘confirmed bachelor’ status for quite some time.  The only thing that had prevented his recategorization was the amused testimony of the widowed Mme. Bellefleur, though as she had only recently relocated to Villaneuve, her word was given somewhat more scrutiny.

It was with great interest that the villagers watched Gaston attempt to court the interest of the artist’s daughter. She was quite lovely, after all, if a little funny what with her decidedly unfeminine academic bent.  Had Gaston been a mite less insistent, the villagers would have collectively assumed that Belle would go the way of Agathe: taking to the woods to offer what potions and remedies could be garnered from local flora and fauna, eschewing the traditions of town for the older ways of the forest.  Magic was an acceptable alternative to marriage, if an uncommon and slightly less proper one.  Common thought held that their local witch wasn’t particularly talented.  Perhaps, some of the elders opined, Belle would be an improvement.

(The matrons of the village held their tongues when the menfolk started hemming and hawing over Agathe’s perceived lack of skill. They remembered when _their_ mothers had first sent them to Agathe to learn a little kitchen witchery, and, having lately sent their own daughters, they knew the unspoken truth was this: Agathe had not aged a day in at least a generation, likely more.

Why she was posing as a low-talent hedge witch in their town of Villaneuve was anyone’s guess, but the women of the village nodded their heads when Agathe passed by, and there was always a meal ready for her should she ask it of them.)

Gaston _was_ persistent though, and enough so that some worried M. Maurice would be forced to step in.  But Belle seemed to handle his advances well enough, which inspired some hope that perhaps she _would_ be a good match for the captain.  After months edged into nearly a full _year_ of fruitless efforts, it seemed the status quo had resumed: Gaston would, in spite of his interest in Belle, likely remain a bachelor, and the lady in question would soon head to the woods to learn as much as she could from Agathe.

Then, one day, quite out of the blue, something _changed_.

The people noticed Gaston with a book, and most assumed (quite rightly) that it was yet another ploy to gain the affections of the fair Belle. What startled the observers was that it _seemed to be working_.  Belle and Gaston had had several interactions that were almost, dare they term them such, _amiable_.

Marius, the baker, mustache aquiver with fervor, insisted that it didn’t mean much. Gaston might be holding Belle’s curiosity, but that was quite different from capturing her heart. Marius, a father of three daughters only just entering marriageable age, was rather cynical about the ins and outs of courtship.

Jean, the potier, was far more optimistic and held that they would see a wedding before the year was out. His word, much like M. Marius’s, was weighed carefully. He was a jolly man, but known to be given to extremes of emotion, and easily swayed.

It was his wife’s testimony that held true weight. “There may be something there that wasn’t there before,” Mme. Potts told Mme. Thomas, the dressmaker.  For Belle had been seen _smiling_ at Gaston and, perhaps even _teasing_ the proud man.

Smiles and conversation were not the same as dinner invitations and acceptance of courting, but they were far more encouraging than stony silences and outright avoidance.

 “There may be something there that wasn’t there before,” the matrons of the village agreed.

It remained to be seen what this ‘something’ would turn out to be.


End file.
